Golden Leaves of Lorien
by Ellwyn
Summary: Finished! An orphan in the Golden Woods discovers love with the young prince of Mirkwood, at a bad time. She and Legolas must decide if the differences between their peoples can be overcome with love, or if love can be lost but still exist...
1. Introduction: Parting and Encounter

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A/N: This is yet another story based in the world of the Elves…oh, did I mention that, much to the gratitude of everyone (well, maybe not…), there is the presence of a 'certain' Elf? Yes, of course! What good is a story like this one without Legolas?! Hehee. I decided I needed to write another one like my last one, because I was getting hungry to write one, and also upon request of all of my wonderful reviewers. ^.^

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***Oh, I made up a character with a fun name (um, in case you were wondering, Aerlinnel, it was based off of your name, though it _is_ somewhat different. Try as I might, I couldn't come up with a good name. I do hope you don't mind!). In case you need to know how to pronounce it: **Erlyannil= Ehr-lee-ahn-neel**. Thought that might be necessary. 

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Golden Leaves of Lorién: Parting and Encounter 

The Elven child clasped the folds of her mother's white gown with small, slender fingers. She appeared to be no more than eight years of age, though her heritage said otherwise. Her several hundred years made her young yet in her peoples' eyes, but she possessed a hidden shadow that lurked beneath dark eyes, hinting of a wisdom that was not yet guessed at. The small fingers were gathered in a larger hand, and the girl tilted her head to gaze up at her mother's warm eyes. 

"Erlyannil, did you hear me? You must not forget the ways I taught to you…" Her mother's voice was warm but it was touched with a hint of urgency and irritation. Erlyannil saw the impatience written on her face and was tempted to disobey her mother, but she was forced to avert her attention to the woman standing before them. 

The woman had pale, shimmering hair that reached to her lower back and she appeared to have an ethereal glow about her from the white dress that rested upon her shoulders. Erlyannil stared up at the Lady with bright eyes of wonder.

"Welcome, child, to the Golden Wood. I am Galadriel…and you must be Erlyannil. Your mother and father have asked that you may live here for a time and they have brought you here to learn." Galadriel smiled and bent to caress her small cheek. "Do not fear, child. In time you will find your place here."

Erlyannil's eyes contained a look of uncertainty as her mother gently pried her hands from the white gown and kneeled next to her. "My child, this is where I grew and learned, and it will be where you will learn, in turn. Do not worry, I will always be with you, although I cannot stay. _Reno, mellen,_ _le milin. Im anneg._" Remember, my dear, I love you. I am with you. "I love you forever."

Her mother straightened and smoothed the folds of her gown before placing a kiss on her daughter's forehead. Galadriel smiled at the young girl's frightened expression.

"Why…can you not stay, ma-ma?" a quiet, small voice asked.

"I cannot explain now, _mellen_, but you will learn in time. Please," she looked to the Lady, "take care of her for me and teach her well."

"You know our ways, Arlynn…they have not changed since you have been here. She will be well." Galadriel smiled warmly, but Erlyannil sensed a solemnity in the Lady's voice that puzzled her. 

Her mother smiled and held her in a tight embrace for a moment, before she stood and walked back to the horse that waited for her by the edge of the wood. Erlyannil caught her mother's eyes for one last moment and then watched her mother's back as she spurred the horse to a gallop and disappeared over a dale. She could have sworn that she saw her mother suppress a sudden sob in the distance, but Galadriel took her hand and led her into the forest.

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Countless seasons had passed and still the everlasting golden trees were as they had been when Erlyannil first set foot in Lorién. She sat in the branches of a large oak tree, hidden partially from the path that ran near the base of the tree by the thick leaves, and blending into the foliage in her greenish-grey tunic and golden hued cloak. Dark eyes widened and a pointed ear turned toward the entrance of the woods where the path began. Erlyannil listened carefully, her fine-tuned hearing discerning the patter of horses' hooves and the light, nearly silent step of approaching Elves. She perched on the branch, waiting patiently for many minutes until finally the group could be seen through the trees.

There were three riders on horseback and five on foot, apparently confident of their guaranteed safety from the way they did not conceal their sounds. Erlyannil's eyes narrowed as they neared, and she held her breath as they began to pass just feet below her. She watched each of them carefully as they passed. They all had wispy, golden hair, each was clad in shades of green and brown, and each was equipped with a bow, quiver, and knives. 

Her measuring stare suddenly faltered as she saw one of the Elves on foot halt as the rest continued onward. She tilted her head as she watched him, and could not suppress a gasp when he turned around and looked into the branches…directly at _her_. Thoughts ran through her confused mind. _How could he have known I was here? None of the others did, nor has anyone ever noticed my presence here before… _

Erlyannil felt a shiver run through her body when she those piercing eyes locked onto hers and held them there, unwavering, challengingly. It surprised her that it took such a large amount of effort just to hold her gaze steady. 

But then the Elf suddenly smiled coyly, a corner of his mouth curved upwards. Erlyannil felt a strange rush of anger mixed with astonishment overcome her. The Elf turned and continued up the path, leaving her leaning against the trunk, breathing unevenly, from what, she did not know.

Erlyannil shook her head and leapt from the branch, landing silently on the forest floor, though not as silently as she normally would have. Try as she might, she could not get the image of the young Elf that had turned and smiled at her, knowingly, as though he saw through every part of her…

She bit down on her lip and followed the path, anxious to ask Galadriel who these Elves were and where they came from.

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Disclaimer: All that good stuff belongs to Tolkien. Please do email: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com


	2. Grudges of the Past

A/N: I've taken some liberties with the story and I realize that the hostilities between the two Elven realms are probably inaccurate with the works of Tolkien (not that I know very much…I'm just guessing). I'm probably going to change things quite a bit…and I hope you will just read along and bear the inconsistencies, for the story's sake! J

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Golden Leaves of Lorién: Grudges of the Past

Galadriel was standing atop a set of stairs, politely awaiting the arrival of the Elves from Mirkwood. She stood, her hands clasped in front of her, and watched as the group finally came into view. The riders had dismounted and each, in turn, entered the gate of the city and approached the staircase. The Elves all bowed to her and Celeborn, who was standing to her left. 

Finally the last Elf of the eight approached and bowed low. Galadriel recognized him to be the son of Thranduil of Mirkwood, for he had visited in the years before when the people of Mirkwood and her people still communicated with one another. 

She guessed that he admired and appreciated the Golden Wood, for, back then, he did often visit, as though he sought reasons just to come to Lorién. Galadriel smiled to herself. The Elven folk of Mirkwood had always been fair and lithe in movement, but she noticed that this prince of Mirkwood took after his father and surpassed them all in feature and grace. 

"What is it that brings you here once more, son of my Elven brother* who lives in the north? It has been long since you last came," Celeborn said in greeting to the young Elf.

"My father sends regards," the young Elf replied in a smooth tone, "and he wishes it to be that our people may live together in harmony with one another. He regrets that our people have grown distant…"

"And he sends his own son to our lands to make peace?" Galadriel asked, not unkindly though her expression was wary.

"My father has always been one to…wish our people were not so secluded from the rest of our kindred," the prince looked uncomfortable, obviously not pleased with his father's decision to send his son for this errand.

"Thranduil has isolated his own people by his doings, by refusing to aid us in the battles of the last age. Elrond has also said this, though may it be known that we do not bear any harsh feelings towards the people of Mirkwood." Celeborn was stern in manner, but he smiled reassuringly at the prince. "For this time, we acknowledge his good intentions to make harmony once more. You and your people may stay here as long as you wish, and perhaps in the future Elrond's people will forget their malevolence towards the Mirkwood Elves."

The Elf visibly relaxed, but he still appeared uncomfortable. Galadriel stepped down. "My son, although our people may seem unkind at first, they must be given time to forgive and forget. Your are welcome here." 

The prince of Mirkwood nodded and bowed his thanks.

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Several weeks had passed since the day the messengers from Mirkwood arrived in the Golden Wood, and they still resided there. As of yet, the people had not cause any noticeable conflicts with the scorned Elves, but Galadriel and Celeborn remained alert. And soon the Lorién Elves did not pay much attention to the intruders. The prince of Mirkwood began to settle and often Galadriel watched him as he walked about the woods and admired the trees. Erlyannil had returned that day from the forest, and every day since then, she asked about the strange Elves that had come to their city. 

"_Atara_," [Mother], Erlyannil called, sitting at the edge of the translucent staircase, "tell me again, who are the Elves who come to Lorién, and what do they desire here?"

The Lady Galadriel smiled at the young girl, who was nearing womanhood but still had the innocent features of a young Elf. "They are from Mirkwood, Erlyannil, and they seek to repair a friendship between our peoples."

Erlyannil's brow furrowed as she scanned her memory. She finally recalled the history Galadriel taught her of the Elves of Mirkwood, and realized then the reason for the tension between the Elven realms. 

Galadriel smiled. "You are so curious, but well-learned, _mellen_, I am always astonished to find you surpassing what I think you are capable of, every day."

The girl blushed slightly, but she felt warmed by her foster mother's praise. Galadriel suddenly sat next to her, a smile on her face. "Erlyannil, has your friend Lyndariel told you of anything recently?"

"No…what is it?"

"I have heard that she has been taken with one of the young Elves from Mirkwood. You have not spoken with her of this or heard anything from her?"

"No, _atara_, though I have noticed that she has not been around as often…and we have not been wading in the springs for a time now. Taken with an Elf of Mirkwood? Something tells me that will not be a good tiding, and that there will be much conflict."

"Yes, Erlyannil, our people have grown to live with them but I sense that none forgive them for their cowardly deeds in the past. And if they do not, then neither will Elrond's people…and a union between our people and theirs is ill tiding indeed," Galadriel looked worried, and Erlyannil was suddenly reminded of the many years the Lady had seen. Her omnipresent ethereal glow seemed as if it had grown dimmer since the day she had first seen her.

Erlyannil nodded and stood. "I will find her and ask…and do not worry, I will be subtle," she added with a grin. Galadriel sighed and smiled, watching the young girl run along the pathways lightly.

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"O Eärendil," Erlyannil muttered under her breath. She was sitting with her feet dangling in the cool water of the spring, her blue-grey shift hiked up past her knees to avoid getting it soaked. Lyndariel was sitting on the other side of the pool, and a hapless expression was on her face. 

"I don't know what to do," Lyndariel whispered, "I'm in love with him, and I know he loves me. We want to be joined in union, but there's no possible way to do that…not with the way our people feel about them. But, you know, Erlyannil, they aren't cowardly at all. Not the way we always assume them to be. He's…different."

Erlyannil nodded, though her gaze remained troubled. "I know, but you do know the trouble this will cause…Galadriel has already proclaimed forgiveness for the Elves of Mirkwood, but I do not know if this, she will be able to do. It is so soon. Oh, Lyndariel, why did it have to be you? You will have to suffer, so much…"

"I can endure it. I could endure it all, just so I could be with him. Not secretly, having to dodge around others and hide the truth, even from ourselves. Besides, there is no way I could not marry--"

"You have already pledged yourself to him?" Erlyannil looked desperately at her friend.

"Yes."

"Aiya," [Oh], she muttered, then, "what is his name?"

"Elladin," Lyndariel said, a faraway look growing in her eyes. 

Erlyannil suddenly stood, still holding the folds of her shift up above her knees. "Lyndariel, I only wish the best for you. I'm going to ask Galadriel if she will consent…it will be difficult, but I promise you, it will happen."

Lyndariel smiled, tears brimming in her eyes. "Thank you…thank you so much, Erlyannil! You are so wonderful, you need not even do this for me…"

"But you are my friend," Erlyannil said, "and you are in love. I do this to keep you from doing anything rash."

Erlyannil grinned reassuringly at her friend, though in her mind, she was trying futilely to sort out the many problems that arose with this. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that, as she hurried back to her home near the top of the silver city, she did not notice when the young blonde Elf stepped out from behind a hedge, into her path.

They collided in a sudden heap and Erlyannil fell backwards, scraping her hands. She winced, and let out a small whimper, sprawled on the ground where she had fallen. The Elf had managed to catch himself, though, and he was standing, watching her curiously. She began muttering curses under her breath but suddenly her gaze went up and rested upon the young Elf she had crashed into. She felt her heart jump involuntarily and could not mask her surprise.

It was the one that had turned around to look at her through the branches, the one with the piercing eyes that had challenged her, mocked her. But he was clad in all white now, and he looked so different now, almost sympathetic, holding his hand out to help her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and musical. Erlyannil found herself admiring his chiseled features, but she shook her head hastily.

"You are injured?" he asked, sudden concern written across his face, mistaking her for shaking her head.

"No, I--" Erlyannil fell silent when he reached out to take her hands and pulled her up from the ground. 

"Well, perhaps you should not hurry so…" He smiled then, a laughing twinkle in his eyes. Erlyannil felt a hot surge of frustration and she attempted none too successfully to wrest her hands away from his. But he suddenly looked down and saw the blood on her palms. "Oh, your hands--"

"--Are fine," she finished with a steely glare. She tried once more to pull her hands away but could not. He suddenly brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it gently. 

"…Are beautiful," he whispered, and she could feel his warm breath on the back of her hand. 

She struggled to push the thoughts out of her mind of his smooth lips caressing her hand. She was furious with herself for acting so foolish, for losing her senses whenever those blue eyes rested on her. Erlyannil could only manage to glare back at him. This time, she finally managed to pull her hands away, and she hastily turned away to continue down the path, leaving the Elf standing, watching her with that same expression of scrutiny he had before he had helped her up. She clenched her hands, strange feelings running rampant through her, and she ignored the pain when her nails bit into the broken skin. 

But as she walked, Erlyannil suddenly turned back to look at him once more. He was standing where she left him, and was still watching her, the hawk-like eyes locked onto hers. She turned away hastily, cursed at herself for not watching her way as she hurried, and broke into a run, ascending the stairs. The young prince of Mirkwood watched her leave, a hint of a smile barely touching his face as the glow of the forest city faded barely noticeably with the fall of night. 

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*"Brother" is used in the context of formality--not brothers as in kin, but in title. ^^

Disclaimer: All that good stuff belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien; no infringement intended, blah blah. Email: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com. Please review!


	3. Chaos Rising

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Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Three: Chaos Rising

A/N: Again, took a lotta liberties with the entire plot. And a short disclaimer: even though I twisted it, the entire idea belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Thank you. Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com

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The Lady Galadriel sat on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands in front of her. Erlyannil sat on the floor before the Lady, and she wore a look of the utmost concern.

"You are true in your reasoning, Erlyannil," Galadriel began, "but this cannot be. I do not know what to say."

"Lyndariel is my…only friend in this city," Erlyannil muttered, "and, as much as I do not want to see her suffer from the disapproving of the others here, I do not want her to suffer because she can not be bound to Elladin. She loves him, _atara_, and she will do anything to be with him. You must understand--this is Lyndariel we speak of now! She can and will go to any measure just to…"

"Yes…I know. I understand. I just don't think…" Galadriel sighed. "But it must be, I fear. If they have pledged themselves to each other. Perhaps it will not be as ill as we dread it to be…perhaps our people will surprise even us and will be even kinder to the union. Perhaps I do not give my people enough time to overcome grudges of the past."

"Perhaps, _atara_," Erlyannil said. "But I am sorry. For the trouble this has caused you."

"Trouble? My dear, there have always been troubles. You are young yet." Galadriel smiled warmly at the girl. "Your friend should not worry, nor should you. Our people will eventually have to learn to accept that the Elves of Mirkwood are not all cowards who hide behind the lines of their kindred in times of battle. And you may be right, Erlyannil, perhaps it will be better if this happens quickly…so that there will be no time for conflicts to even arise."

"Or it could all come tumbling down at once," Erlyannil said, eyes downcast.

"Do not worry!" Galadriel exclaimed, a smile in her eyes, "being too learned for such a young one, perhaps is not the best. You should not have to worry over such matters while you are still young. Speaking of youth, do you not think it time that you follow your friend's ways?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…that it is the right age, you have come beyond our ways of learning and you are ready. Ready to be bound in union to another--"

"_Atara!_" Erlyannil exclaimed, standing suddenly. "You cannot be serious! I am not ready…nor will I be…I…" Thoughts of the young blonde elf slid unbidden into her mind, but she pushed them out angrily with a shake of her head. "No, I am not. Never." With that final word, she took one last look at Galadriel's laughing face and hastily stepped out of the room.

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The days came and went, and Erlyannil stayed in with Galadriel near the tops of the trees, only occasionally venturing down to walk by the springs or admire the blooming trees. She knew inwardly what she avoided in staying only near the upper reaches of the city. Erlyannil did not want to confront Lyndariel, to see how anxious her friend was for the announcement that would eventually come from Galadriel of the marriage.

And when that announcement finally did come, Erlyannil feared the city's reaction. She remained in her small room, preoccupying herself with an old hobby she had as a child of making sketches of the city, until the night the ceremony was scheduled to begin.

Erlyannil felt a strange unexplainable anxiety growing in her mind. It had lingered in her thoughts since Lyndariel had told her of her love for the outsider…and since then, Erlyannil felt a strange déjà vu surrounding the events. She pushed her dark hair out of her eyes, frustrated with her odd feelings, and hastily dressed herself in a slim silver gown that was laced with the golden leaves from the trees along the hem and collar. She pinned golden leaves into her hair, a decoration only worn for the most important of events. After all, it was Lyndariel's marriage to the young Elladin, and Erlyannil was unsure of how the event would transpire. She found herself breathing rather rapidly as she descended to the luminous grove in which the ceremonies would be held. 

When she finally reached it, her breath caught for a moment. The moonlight was streaming through the dense roof so that shafts of light cut through the peaceful scene. Everywhere, the Elves of Lorién were dressed ceremoniously, dancing gracefully, and to one side sat Galadriel and Celeborn, both regal on their thrones of carved wood. 

Galadriel smiled knowingly at her, and a sudden faraway look grew in the Lady's eyes. _She is no longer young,_ Galadriel thought, watching the girl step timidly into the grove, _she may be only fifteen years of age in the equivalent of the measures of the Men, yet she is so much older, so much wiser…perhaps it is time she knew the truth. It is a wonder that she never did ask about it._ Galadriel's thoughts were interrupted by Celeborn at her side, who stood and held his hand, asking her to join in the dancing. 

Erlyannil smoothed out her dress with slightly sweating hands, cursing herself for feeling so strange. When she looked up, she saw Lyndariel, dressed in a pale, intricate white dress, dancing with Elladin. Lyndariel was radiant, and Erlyannil could see that Elladin saw her beauty, for he looked upon her in awe as they stepped in time to the lilting music of the Elves.

A light touch at her elbow caused her drifting gaze to focus once more, and she looked to her side.

"Your friend is beautiful," the Elf said. His words flowed out, low and smooth, in a half whisper. Erlyannil turned and found herself staring at the Elf dressed in a silver-blue tunic, his light hair reflecting the silver moonlight. "I regret…that we have never been properly introduced," he said, "I am Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood--"

"You are Thranduil's son?!" Erlyannil asked in dismay, interrupting him.

He paused for a moment. "…Yes. And you might be…?"

"Erlyannil Galadh," she replied, blushing slightly. 

"Galadh?" Legolas asked, a curious expression written on his face. "The word for tree…?"

"A name my foster mother, Galadriel, gave to me." Erlyannil looked toward the Lady, sitting elegantly as she watched the dances.

"Foster mother?" Legolas asked cautiously. It was a rare thing indeed to be the adopted daughter of the Lady Galadriel, but that explained his many questions about the girl's unusual wisdom. "Do you…know of your real parents?"

"I…" Erlyannil began, but she faltered, and the nagging sensation in the back of her mind grew suddenly. "I don't know, I never wondered," she whispered, more to herself than to answer the prince's query. 

Erlyannil saw the questions forming in the elf's mind, but he did not voice them. Instead, he held out his hand for her to take. She nearly placed her hand in his, but hesitated, suddenly aware that she had forgotten all of the past encounters with the young elf.

"Erlyannil," he whispered, "I am sorry for my light 'havior of late… I was only astonished to find one such as you--you move and speak and, therefore, think unlike one of your few years."

"And you? Are you not still younger than the trees?" Erlyannil asked him, a challenging expression growing in her eyes. She stepped backwards, aware of the too small distance that separated her from Legolas.

Legolas laughed then, a light and merry sound that, like the laugh of any elf, caused the hearts of any who heard it to feel a great warmth. "Younger than the trees, that is true," he said, obviously noticing her subtle retreat backwards, since he began to edge forward, "but I am your elder by hundreds of seasons. And still I am a youth among my people. Yet it seems that you may know things that I have yet to know myself…"

"The Lady taught me…no doubt, I do not know much else that you will not learn in time." Erlyannil's eyes swept over his face, and she noticed the youth still written on his features, glowing in his eyes.

Legolas again held out his hand. "Would you dance with me?" 

Erlyannil hesitated but smiled, and replied by placing her hand in his and allowing him to lead her away from the other dancers. Then he slid his hand down to her waist and twirled her to the sweet music around them. She began to feel dizzy and her heartbeat quickened. Legolas brought her nearer to him so that she could feel his heart beating against hers. He looked down deeply into her eyes, causing an unusual shiver to course through her. Erlyannil lowered her gaze to the ground.

"This union…is ill news," Legolas began, his voice secretive and pitched so that only she could hear. "I was sent here by my father to make peace, and it seemed that for a while we had accomplished this. But then, now this--I sense that my people and yours are not yet ready for a union between them. It may cause--"

"Havoc," she muttered under her breath, finally bringing her gaze back up to his face. "Yes, I know."

"My father refuses to give his consent to this marriage." Legolas' gaze looked out past her, as though focusing on something far away. His expression grew distant as he thought. "Just as he refused to give consent to the union of the two lovers that time…three hundred years ago. I barely remember, for I was but a yearling then, but I do remember that there was much trouble. The Elf--one of ours, from Mirkwood, he would not take no as an answer from my father. He went to steal his maiden away, but she was guarded by her family…and, in his rage, he killed her father and brothers. He did manage to escape with her, but when they reached the banks of the Anduin, my father sent people out to gather them back. It is a story that I have heard maybe once, and I do vaguely remember it; I do not know how it ends. But…history should not be given the chance to repeat itself."

"But it does, and it will," Erlyannil muttered barely audibly. She was too absorbed in her thoughts, those odd thoughts that had arisen when Legolas mentioned the union of two Elves three hundred years ago…

"Of course it will," he muttered, more to himself than to her. Then, "…I must confess something," Legolas whispered, after a time in which they spun to the melody, apart from the others. Erlyannil drew out of her thoughts and looked at him curiously. They stopped dancing, and Legolas' expression was grave, hopelessness showing in his blue eyes. "I know that it will happen again…it happened long ago, and it happens now with the maiden and Elladin…and now it threatens to happen once more."

Erlyannil's eyes betrayed her bewilderment. "I don't understand," she said.

Legolas said nothing for a time. Erlyannil stared at the trees nearby as the music was brought to a standstill. She brought her gaze to their feet, pondering the meaning of his words. Within moments the lyre struck up another melancholy melody, and a fearful thought occurred to her. 

"Aiya ancalima," Erlyannil whispered under her breath. She drew herself away from him so that she did not have to look into his earnest eyes. "Legolas, are you--"

Erlyannil was interrupted by a sudden angry shout from the other side of the grove. She and Legolas turned abruptly, and fell apart from each other as the commotion began. 

"_You murderer!" _an Elven maiden yelled from one of the entrances to the grove. An expression of twisted fury was written on her face, tears flying out of her eyes. In shock, Erlyannil recognized the girl to be Lyndariel's younger sister. Erlyannil's jaw dropped as she heard the girl's accusing words.

"_You would dare to marry him! He is kindred of a killer, who killed our father! Lyndariel, listen to me! Our father was killed by these scoundrels, these bastards!!!" _

Lyndariel's face was ghost-white in shock. The entire city was watching as Elladin tried to comfort his soon-to-be wife, but Lyndariel pushed him away absent-mindedly. She stepped away and, with a dead look in her eyes, looked about her. Her eyes rested on Erlyannil for a moment before they rolled back into her head and she collapsed to the ground. Elladin was attempting to gather her in his arms and carry her out of the crowd beginning to gather around them to no avail. Celeborn was shouting something above the din of the astonished people, and Galadriel was grasping the arms of her wooden chair with trembling hands. 

And then Legolas was suddenly at Erlyannil's side, yelling something at her. But Erlyannil stepped away, memories recalled in her mind, and tears brewing in her eyes. She shook her head incoherently at the bewildered Legolas before racing off past him and disappearing from the grove. 

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	4. Truth

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Golden Leaves of Lorién: Chapter Four

Truth

Erlyannil ran from the grove, head pounding, tears burning her eyes. She felt her mind spinning, no longer aware of her legs moving beneath her. And so she stumbled, falling to her hands and knees, shudders coursing through her body. Erlyannil was scared. For what reason, she did not know. And angry, and…so many strange feelings ran rampant through her; she did not know what to think, or why she had run off. Sounds of the chaos she left behind still reached her ears dimly, and she shook her head in denial. Her shoulders shaking, tears fell from her eyes to shatter on the cold stone.

"Erlyannil," a voice whispered from behind. Hesitant footsteps on the stone pathway, and then silence. Erlyannil did not look up, though she knew that Legolas was kneeling at her side, a worried but puzzled expression on his face, those sharp eyes troubled. 

It was silent for several moments, and more shouts from the grove could be heard. Erlyannil felt a hand on her shoulder, and she was ashamed of her trembling. She finally lifted her head and sat back on her knees. 

"Erlyannil…" Legolas again whispered, reaching up to gently brush the hair out of her face. She did not pull back, but closed her eyes, squeezing the tears out.

"You don't understand," she answered, her voice barely audible. Her throat burned terribly and it hurt to swallow.

"You're right, I don't," Legolas said, "because first you have to tell me. What is it? Is it because of your friend? Or are you scared of what may happen…"

"No, I don't have to tell you!" she spat out through clenched teeth. Erlyannil struggled to stand, but her knees were shaking too badly. "Leave me alone…just leave me alone."

Legolas shook his head, peering into her eyes. She dropped her gaze to stare at the ground, but he gently held her face up so that she was forced to look at him. "Please…" he said, and she was suddenly frightened, though for some reason, she could not move. Legolas' eyes held an unusual look, and he bent nearer. Erlyannil could feel his breath on her face, and she shut her eyes as his lips brushed against hers. 

But their lips met only briefly, for she pulled away with a look of despondency. "You don't understand!" she shouted at him angrily, "no…how can you? You and your people come to our home, you…you come to seduce young maidens--like Lyndariel, and me, and…my mother!" 

Legolas stared after her speechlessly as she hiked up her now-torn dress and sped through the hedges out of sight. _Her mother?_

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The white moon hung, balanced at the tip of the night sky. Erlyannil could see it if she peered through the canopy of golden leaves above her window. Unable to cry herself to sleep, she had waited at the window ledge of her room, listening to the sounds of the city beneath her. There were shouts, screams, and crying…Erlyannil's heart wept at the noises of the disorder of the city. 

But to her ears, she heard only endless weeping. In her mind she saw an entire city grouped around three blurred bodies, lying in the sacred grove where she had just been hours before. And the people were weeping for the dead, for her grandfather, her uncles--one of whom was Lyndariel's father. But most of all, in her mind she heard women crying the name… _Arlynn…my mother, _she thought,_ why? Why did Galadriel never tell me? Of course…because she could not let me know the origin of my birth…to her, it was a union of such grief. But, that is not what troubles me. Why am I so scared? …Lyndariel, her father was killed by mine. What will happen to our city? _

She halted her thoughts to listen carefully. Thus far, she had not yet heard the sound of metal clashing with metal, or the whir of a swift arrow. Erlyannil drew in a quivering breath and buried her face in her hands.

"Erlyannil," a calm but strained voice said from the doorway. Erlyannil turned to face the Lady Galadriel. The Lady was worn, her face was pale, and her eyes held a heavy grief.

"Galadriel?" Erlyannil asked quietly, "what has happened?"

Galadriel sat on the bed and Erlyannil moved from her place by the window to sit next to her. "_Mellen_, there is great trouble. After Lyndariel collapsed…she has been in a restless fever ever since. Elladin has pleaded to see her, but the guards are forcing him out. And as for the rest of the Mirkwood Elves, they are under our protection, but, all the same, they are in danger. The people have calmed finally, and returned to their homes, but there is a restless air, that you, no doubt, can sense also. This event is too reminiscing of…something our people never did forget." Galadriel looked to the girl then, her eyes studying the girl's face.

"My mother and father…" Erlyannil began. Galadriel nodded knowingly and caressed the young girl's cheek with a warm hand.

"I am sorry, Erlyannil. That I never told you. I could not bring myself to put such a burden of grief on one so young and cheerful as you, nor could I break my vow to your mother. She begged of me never to tell you the truth. But, now, I think you have found the truth on your own."

"Partially. I…someone told me. But I felt so, so strange in that place, with events so reflecting of…the past. They were killed there, were they not? In that grove…"

Galadriel nodded resignatedly. "Yes. Arlynn's father and brothers were killed there. How did you find out? Who told you this?"

Erlyannil's eyes grew distant and she felt an odd pang of guilt. "That Elf…from Mirkwood. The son of Thranduil."

The Lady studied the girl's face carefully, and when she caught the look in the girl's eyes, she sighed a long sigh, and a worn expression came to her face. "_Mellen_, you have feelings for the son of Thranduil, do you not?"

"No, I--" Erlyannil stopped at a knowing glance from Galadriel. "Yes, but not how you would think it. I mean…my mother and father, and all that happened to this city because of their love, and now Lyndariel and Elladin. What is to come of it, Galadriel, what will happen?"

Galadriel smiled despite herself at the girl's haplessly youthful expression. But that smile soon faded when her thoughts drifted to the events of the past, the burning trees, threats of war against the Mirkwood Elves for breaking a strong, ancient oath and committing murder upon those of their kindred… 

Even now, Galadriel could not bring herself to understand how the forbidden love between two people could drive one to kill just to be with the other. Her thoughts then drifted to the young Lyndariel, Erlyannil's cousin, and the young Elf Elladin. _What will happen to them? No doubt Thranduil does not know of this…I gave my consent. I gave consent to this--to violence? My people have not overcome old grudges, and with events repeating themselves, who knows what will happen to the young couple? _Her gaze drifted to Erlyannil's worried face. _What will happen to my dear Erlyannil? …I can see it in her eyes, the fear she tries to hide. What is it from? Is it because…of that young prince? _Galadriel closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. _She must know the truth._

"Galadriel?" Erlyannil asked, and the Lady suddenly noticed that she had not called her how she used to since she set foot in this room. 

__

I am just Galadriel to her now…not her mother. Arlynn is her mother. She knows that now. Galadriel looked into the girl's eyes. "Young one, you must know the truth now. I have concealed it far too long."

Erlyannil nodded earnestly.

"After your father came here, he stole Arlynn away, and they escaped from Lorién. But Thranduil sent out scouts to find your father, and they came once the couple reached the Anduin. Then your father was taken prisoner to Mirkwood, and Arlynn was sent back here. She was quiet then, so quiet that we feared she was ill…it was not ill, but…pregnancy. While your father was kept prisoner in Mirkwood, no doubt being subjected to punishment, Arlynn gave birth to you. And then…" Galadriel hesitated, but forced herself to continue for the sake of the girl sitting next to her. "She found out somehow that your father was to be executed in Mirkwood, for committing murderous acts upon the Elves of Lorién. That was when she left you here--"

"I remember…vaguely, but I remember her." _The smell of her, the very image of her, imprinted into my memories. O mother, why was love so cruel to you?_

"--And she…she disappeared for several days. I was worried, and I sent word to Thranduil, but after the execution of your father, they did not see any sign of Arlynn. But later……she was found by the Anduin. She stabbed herself."

Erlyannil was silent. By now her eyes were dry; she could not shed another tear. But even if she could have, she was in too much shock to cry. "My mother…killed herself? And my father is dead. And that is why the people will not let Lyndariel and Elladin be together."

Galadriel nodded. Erlyannil shut her eyes against the light that was beginning to creep through her window with the coming of dawn.

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Disclaimer: Being a work of fanfiction, the original belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. 

jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com


	5. Daylight

****

Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Five: Daylight

Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com

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She could not remember when the Lady left her room. It must have been near dawn, Erlyannil decided, her eyes still closed as her mind gradually woke. The golden sunlight of midday was streaming through her open window now, warming her skin as she sat, curled up, her head resting on her knees. Erlyannil had fallen into a light, disturbed slumber for the most part of the morning and she awoke to find the day half gone. 

Erlyannil felt no compulsion to venture down into the city or to speak to anyone. The Lady had disappeared, no doubt to console her people. What had happened last night? She blinked twice, then reached up to run cold fingers through damp hair. Erlyannil was fully awake now, and she recalled that she had cried herself to sleep. 

That's right, she thought, Lyndariel and Elladin. My mother and father. What will Galadriel do? No, what will she be _able_ to do? People do not easily forget tragedies if they are reminded of it with every passing day. What am I going to do? The people here know my story, better than I know it myself. …Even Legolas knows it. 

With the thought of the young but shrewd son of Thranduil, her thoughts halted. 

Legolas…

He had not known why she was troubled by his story of the two young lovers, or why, when he had kissed her in the hedge, she had looked so frightened. Erlyannil drew in a shaky breath. 

Why am I so afraid of him? Because he recognized me in the trees and every time he looks at me, I feel like my entire soul is exposed to his eyes? Or because I am afraid of how I feel when I am near him. 

Erlyannil could hear the words repeating in her head, _"I must confess something. I know that it will happen again. It happened long ago, and it happens now with the maiden and Elladin…and now it threatens to happen once more," _Legolas had told her. That was what frightened her. Erlyannil rubbed her burning eyes and struggled to stand. _History should not be given the chance to repeat itself. But it does, and it will. _

But things change, she thought in defiance to the words, _and what I do is in my hands, not anyone else's. Why should I **let** history repeat itself? I refuse to let myself fall prey to what consumed my mother and father…_

There was a movement in the trees near her window, and she turned, her senses alert. Someone was moving in the tree branches, making way towards the small overhanging ledge of her window.

Erlyannil's heartbeat quickened as her eyes fell upon the young elf swinging with agile ease into her room. Legolas stood and she noticed his expression change from one of casual wariness to a look of despair as soon as he saw her watching him. Legolas' eyes wavered as he looked at her.

Once recovered from shock, she felt ashamed at her disheveled appearance. But then she came to again and resumed her defensive glare as he approached her. She noticed quite involuntarily that he was wearing a collared black tunic that only accentuated the pale of his face and eyes. 

Once he was within a foot of her, though, Erlyannil found herself unable to hold up her defenses any longer. Her expression faltered and her eyes betrayed her yielding to her feelings. Legolas' eyes were trained on her now, studying her face, and she could tell that he was breathing rapidly. He stopped finally, looking down at her, and he took her sweaty hand in his.

"Erlyannil Galadh…I have only just met you, but…" Legolas' voice was despondent.

Erlyannil could not speak. She was too conscious of the Elf's fingers caressing her own.

"I tried to tell you last night. That when I saw you amidst the golden leaves, I could not explain to myself the feelings that ran through me. And to be near you, to speak with you as I did last night…you have no idea how long the hours of the night were when I could not find you, when I was kept by the conflicts of the city. In all my travels I have never seen anyone with such effortless charisma…such grace, and such shrewd wisdom. I swear by Eärendil that I will never fully understand what it is about you, but that I will never find another like you."

Erlyannil stood stock-still, eyes wide in astonishment. When she did not reply, Legolas pleaded, "Erlyannil, do you not see the despair in my eyes?" He brought her hand to rest on his chest near his left shoulder. "Do you not feel the pounding of my heart?"

She gently pulled her hand away from where he held it. Having finally found her voice again, she began timidly, "Legolas, you are the son of the king of Northern Mirkwood. My guardian is the Lady of Lorién. Let me ask you my question: do you not see the barriers between…between…"

"Between us? Between our people? Erlyannil, you do not understand how irrepressible this is. Barriers do not stand in its way. You do not understand."

She laughed bitterly. "No, I don't. I don't understand why my father murdered for love. I don't understand why my mother killed herself for love. I don't understand why Lyndariel is so set on marrying her _prince_," she said, a sneer in her voice. "When obviously she is just as conscious as I am of the grudges that exist between two different races, the mistakes that one made in cowardliness and the mistakes of another in not forgiving!"

She was on the verge of tears and her voice was cracking, but she continued relentlessly. "You are right, of course, I don't understand at all. I don't understand why I feel the way I do when you are near me, or why you sneak into my room in the midst of turmoil, ignorant of what may happen between your people and mine just so you can say these words to me and torment me! Do _you_ not see that I am the product of a marriage like Lyndariel's, one that did not prevail and that will never prevail? There are too many differences between our people, too many tragedies." Erlyannil stepped back from him and sat on the edge of her bed, angrily pulling at her hair. 

Legolas was speechless. He knelt and gently pulled her hands out of her hair, then ran his own fingers through the dark mass of tangles. He pushed the hair from her face and caressed her cheeks with his hands, wiping her angry tears away. Erlyannil finally raised her face to meet his eyes. Her eyes were red; the pain she had kept so long inside without ever acknowledging its presence finally unleashed. 

"I knew," she whispered, voice hoarse, "I knew from the beginning when Ma-ma left me here. That day when she knelt down and told me that she loved me forever and then deserted me. I saw the pain in her eyes, the suffering that would not cease until she ended her own life, when she prepared to leave me forever. I saw the sobs that racked her body when she was nearly gone…" She trailed off, unable to continue any longer.

"I never did know," he whispered, his voice just as quiet as hers, "and I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry for what I have done to you." He stood, and her gaze followed him. He looked down at her, all the despair gone from his eyes, replaced by a poignant look of resignation. "Some things change," he said, an edge of bitterness to his voice, "there are too many tragedies between our people, but they will learn to accept things as they are. We do not run from the future, we have to make it." He was silent for a moment, then he walked over to the open window, adding before he swung out onto a limb, "But I am not sorry that I fell in love with you."

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	6. Surrender

****

Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Six: Surrender

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Erlyannil watched the Elf prince depart from her window in tears. A tumult of conflicting emotions engulfed her and for a few moments she felt as though she were about to drown in it all. She wanted to run to Galadriel and throw her arms around the Lady with her warm radiant face, to hide in the comfort of her arms. She wanted Galadriel to protect her from the raw severity of everything that had erupted in, it seemed, just a matter of days.

It had all happened with the coming of the Elves from Mirkwood. Why did Legolas have to appear in my life? Why did he have to come to anguish me, to throw everything I knew into chaos…

Because I couldn't hide from the harsh face of truth for long. It was only a matter of time before she found out about her parents and their tragic love. Sooner or later it was bound to happen. Erlyannil sighed, and she stood to brush through the tangles of her hair and slip on a dark tunic and pants. She did not feel like walking through the gardens or admiring the trees or sitting with her shift hiked up past her knees and her feet dangling in the cool, rich waters of the springs. 

She did not know what exactly she was going to do, but she knew she could not stay in her room forever. It was about time she faced the truth. She slipped her bow and arrows over her shoulder; archery was a skill long forgotten in the peaceful days of the Golden Wood. But she had been taught by the warrior Elves in Lorién, who were amused by the incipient adopted daughter of the Lady and her hunger for knowledge. She was uncertain of whether or not she would need to bring her weapons, but she brought them out of fear of the peoples' wrath at the unexpected events of the past nights. No doubt all of the Elves who were not children knew of her origins. They had just never spoken of it: it seemed to be a well-kept secret amongst the city.

"Erlyannil," Galadriel said, looking up and catching sight of the pale girl as she descended from her room to the grove.

"Lady," Erlyannil replied timidly, then looked at the people seated around the Lady. A middle-aged Elf sat near Galadriel: a mithril coronet rested upon his brow and he had a majestic air about him, and wisdom written on his face. Erlyannil immediately recognized him to be Elrond of Rivendell. And at his side sat another Elf, wizened but still in his middle years, dressed from head to toe in shades of green and brown. When Erlyannil saw him, she perceived the striking resemblance between son and father.

Erlyannil bowed low and was about to curtsy before she realized she was not wearing a dress and looked like an Elven archer on a forest patrol for orcs, save for her loose hair. "It is an honor, Lord Elrond, King Thranduil…" she said. Elrond nodded to her and studied her face with quiet contemplation. 

Thranduil immediately turned to Galadriel. "This is the girl, Lady?"

Erlyannil's breath caught in her throat. _She didn't tell them…did she? They are, no doubt, holding a council for some reason or another—obviously concerning recent events. But do they know about me?_

"Yes," Galadriel replied calmly, a glow issuing from her eyes as she gazed upon Erlyannil's anxious face.

"My dear…" Elrond muttered, "so young. She knows the truth?"

"Yes, she knows who her mother and father were. And what they did."

The girl standing a few feet away looked timidly from one to another. Thranduil noticed this, and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Do not fear, young one, our people have grown restless, as you no doubt have perceived. It has happened before. We must take careful measures to preserve peace between us."

"I know that," she said quietly. "But what are you going to do?"

Elrond looked at her, sternly, but no without kindness. He looked upon her as though he looked upon Galadriel or Thranduil—as an equal. She noticed this, and realized that was why his people so respected him. Elrond was wise and stern, but fair. "Erlyannil, we are not going to raise havoc or create a war. We have realized that it may take much time for our people to be at rest with one another once more. The actions of one can have much effect on the balance of society."

"I'm sorry, for my father, I mean…" Erlyannil interjected shyly.

"No, 'tis not something in your obligation to apologize for," Thranduil said, "and naught can be done about it. We are beginning to believe that it is for the best that our people lay low in the north while yours remain secluded in the Golden Wood as they have before."

"But--" Erlyannil was waved silent by Galadriel.

"It is unfortunate, yes, and something we do not wish for, but if it must be done, then it will be. Do you see the city, my daughter?"

Erlyannil flinched slightly at the words, 'my daughter,' for she knew she was no longer to be the Lady's daughter. She felt a strange breach where there used to be motherly love when she looked at Galadriel, now that they both knew that she knew the truth.

"Yes, why?"

"The people are indoors. No one has ventured out, for fear of a riot. Your friend Lyndariel is still sick. Elladin fights to be near her because of his love for her, but he is being held by the guards of Thranduil and his son…" Erlyannil flinched again at the mentioning of the comely prince. "My dear, there is tension in the air. Something must be done but Lyndariel and Elladin's oaths cannot be broken, for it is an ill omen indeed to go against a marriage vow."

Erlyannil sighed and stared at her feet. She felt shy and awkward standing before the three rulers of the Elven kingdoms, yet inwardly there was a deep, powerful feeling straining to rise up. "What is to be done?" she asked quietly.

"I leave tomorrow with my people," Thranduil said. His tone was resigned and weary. "It is true that there are things I did in the past that I am ashamed of, for I was afraid my people would be hindered if we entered the war, but the Lady and Elrond know endless forgiveness. There will be no more seeking of a truce between our people until the time is ready. Until then, we stay in the north."

"And what of Elladin?" Erlyannil's voice was near to a whisper. She felt a lump rising in her throat, an unbidden grief that the ties between Elven kingdoms would again be severed. 

"I gave my consent to their marriage," Galadriel said with a sigh. "And I still do. They are already married. Lyndariel, your cousin, is badly hurt by the knowledge that her father was killed…by yours…"

The Elven girl stared down at her feet, hot anger growing within her.

"My dear, I think you should go to Lyndariel and explain things to her. Elladin will be able to stay here, but I fear they will have to move out of the city." Galadriel looked just as worn as the other two, Erlyannil noticed, but in her face loomed the greatest shadow of grief.

The girl nodded and looked around at the three of them once more, unable to stifle the feeling of awe at their great wisdom and benevolence. She bowed low once more with her cheeks flushed and turned away to run down the steps and into the grove that led to the rest of the city.

As she ran, her thoughts turned suddenly to the fair son of Thranduil. Would she never see him again? _He said he fell in love with me…then I was right. It is what he meant by threatening that history would repeat. History repeats now, again, with the decision that they have made. But what will happen in the future? It cannot always be so--Legolas said that things could change and they would…_

She stumbled suddenly, and felt something caught on her tunic. Twisting around to look, Erlyannil saw that a thorned branch from one of the hedges had gotten entangled on the midriff of her black tunic, just under her arm. It had slit open the cloth and one of the thorns had pierced the skin, where dark red drops of blood were beginning to form. She gritted her teeth against the stinging of the thorns still against her skin and, with her fingers, tried to pry the fabric loose. But her fingers fumbled over the cloth and were, in turn, pricked by the keen thorns.

She whimpered softly in pain and sucked on the back of her index finger where the skin had been torn. Erlyannil stopped suddenly to listen as a sound of rolling thunder reached her ears from outside the woods. She paused to listen sharply and heard a storm raging. A storm raging, all around Lorién but not a drop of rain could touch the face of a golden leaf.

"Excuse me, maiden, are you hurt?" a soft voice from behind made her startle. She tried to twist around to see who it was but the thorn only dug deeper into her side. She winced and pulled herself as far as the thick fabric would allow away from the bush.

The owner of the voice stepped around to her front so she could see him. His eyes widened in recognition and he suddenly looked a bit flustered. "Legolas!" she exclaimed suddenly; she felt a warmth rising in her cheeks and knew she was blushing furiously. But he did not notice, for he took immediately to examining the fabric caught on the brambles of the hedge. 

"You're caught bad. The thorns are all wound up around it…no way to get it off, but--" He suddenly bent down and bit down on the fabric, tearing it off with his teeth. Erlyannil was freed and she stepped away, looking down at the hole in her tunic.

Then she looked up at Legolas and noticed that one side of his face and lips were bleeding slightly from the thorns that had pricked his skin when he tore away the cloth. "Oh…you're bleeding!" 

Legolas shook his head and looked down at the hole at her side. "I could not recognize you in your…change of wardrobe. I thought it was true that most maidens looked better in beautiful gowns, but I had never seen one in a man's clothes." There was a smile twinkling in his eyes. "Maybe you ought to mend that…oh, your skin is torn." When he looked up, Erlyannil's eyes suddenly met his and she felt the urge to look away. 

But she held his gaze and instead found herself rambling, "Legolas, I'm sorry, I did not listen to you because I was afraid." She saw the despondence etched on his face and it made her heart cry out. "I…I didn't know what to say to you. I have only just met you, and all the things you said to me, they frightened me because I was afraid of what might happen if I gave in to my own feelings. And now…oh, Legolas, do you know that your father is here? And he's going to take you all away from here, back to Mirkwood...tomorrow." Tears were in her eyes also when she finished. She could not deny the strong longing to be with the Elven prince any longer, and she knew it. 

Legolas was looking down at her, a strange fire burning in his eyes. Wordlessly he raised his trembling hand and entangled it in her dark hair. Erlyannil was shocked to see tears in his eyes. A faint smile came to his lips. "Erlyannil…do you remember what I said? About how things would change."

"Yes. But, Legolas, they won't. They won't change because your people are leaving and we should have been better off never meeting. Lyndariel and Elladin are just as good as exiled from Lorién and Mirkwood, though they have to stay together because vows cannot be broken. Things won't change. They'll live somewhere else, objects of shame, and you'll go back to your home, and…and I'll never see you…again."

Erlyannil's speech was faltering as she began to cry. She couldn't explain why she was crying, just that she felt terrible grief and regret that she hadn't told Legolas how she truly felt, and now it was too late. She saw the look of brief rebellion in his eyes and knew he was thinking what she had grudgingly waved away from her mind, to run away from both their homes and abandon everything behind just to be together somewhere else…

But she knew it wasn't possible. And she saw the rebellious fire die down in his eyes, too, though it kindled in his eyes longer than it had in her.

"I love you," he whispered quietly, urgently, all in one breath, like one foolishly lost in the throes of passion. She looked deep into his blue eyes and saw the love he claimed for her glowing there, bright and burning. Despite herself, she suddenly placed her hands on the sides of his face and wiped away the blood. Her fingers brushed against his cut lip and he closed his eyes, turning his face towards her hand as if to savor the feeling.

She felt her heart thudding in her chest while it simultaneously ached terribly. Erlyannil pulled his face towards hers and kissed him fiercely. She felt his sharp intake of air but then his hands were cradling her face and his lips moving against hers desperately. She started to sob without tears as an overwhelming feeling engulfed her.

Their kiss was so frantic that she had to pull away for fear of her heart bursting. Erlyannil suddenly fell to her knees and sat down on the stone pathway. Legolas crouched beside her, breathing hard.

"Why did this happen?" she asked, more to herself.

Legolas was at a loss for words. But after a long silence, in which he felt so much restlessness stir in him that he wanted to scream, he spoke. "You should go to your friend. She is sick."

Erlyannil's eyes grew into focus again as she was brought back to reality. She sighed heavily and looked at the pleading look in Legolas' eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

"No," he said quietly but ardently. "Go to her." He helped her up and she looked back at him with a tumult of confusion in her eyes before she disappeared around the corner. Legolas was left standing in the middle of the hedge. He had never felt such passion for anyone before, and he had never expected it to happen in such a short matter of days. It was a lightning quick meeting and it would be a heart breaking parting. He suddenly remembered, unbidden, the feeling of her mouth, the way he had felt her body racked with sobs as they kissed.

Legolas buried his face in his hands.

The Lady Galadriel stood at the top of the steps leading down into the grove with grief written on her face, solemnly watching the young Elf cry his heart out tearlessly.

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Disclaimer: Being a work of fanfiction, the original is property of J.R.R. Tolkien (and Saul Zaentz). Any original characters and plot are the rightful property of me. J Extra comments, questions? Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com


	7. Twilight's Breath

**__**

Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Seven: Twilight's Breath

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The light of day was beginning to wane and shadows flitted across the canopy of leaves. There was a brooding darkness that rested over everything, Erlyannil could sense, as she neared the opaque home of her kin. It was a home built of flawless birch wood, which shimmered with as much ethereal light as the rest of the city on any day except this one. Across the door was carved a beautiful myriad of branches and blossoms. The girl stopped before it and raised her trembling hand to knock.

She set her jaw and fought against the tears that threatened to overcome her. So much had happened, so much was happening. And there was nothing she could do to stop it, but to stand and watch it all go by. Or at least that was what she wished she could do, for instead of being an onlooker she was swept up in the events, her heart caught up in a struggle that would inevitably end in lament.

Erlyannil's thoughts turned to her childhood friend and could not bring herself to understand why she had risked so much for what seemed like so little. What about Lyndariel's father? That was what had made the girl sick, no doubt, for her heart was torn between the love she held for one and the love and honor of her father's memory. 

The door opened and in its place stood a woman, a woman who would not have appeared to be old if it not were for the lines of weariness around her sad eyes. Her face was as pallid as her hair and her eyes were red as though she were constantly weeping. 

"Erlyannil," the woman said in a feeble voice, "you have come. It will do her good to see you, though I fear that there is one more she yearns to see but may never be able to…it will kill her, my dear, it will." Lyndariel's mother sighed heavily and Erlyannil knew if she had not spent her tears and energy the previous night, she would have wept even now.

The woman stepped aside to let the girl in. Erlyannil could see the sickness, smell it, and even feel it in the air around her. Lyndariel's two sisters and her mother were all weeping. And the frail girl lying on the bed as though if she were to disappear the bed would not have been affected at all, so thin was she, could not have been Lyndariel. But it was. Erlyannil nearly broke out crying herself but instead she knelt by the bed and smiled, taking her friend's lifeless hand in hers.

"Lyann," the ill girl whispered airily. 

"Hi, Ariel," Erlyannil replied. The tears finally could not be held back. The sound of her friend's voice, using their childhood nicknames, as though everything were fine again…

Why?! Erlyannil wanted to scream. Instead, she merely asked quietly, "You wish to see him, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question when it came from her lips. 

Lyndariel's eyes closed in reply and then weakly opened again. The beauty in Lyndariel's face, the radiance she emitted just the other day, her wedding day, still lingered on her features but it was a faint presence, something that was in its last struggles before it withered away.

"Why…" Erlyannil began. But she hesitated. Although inside she wanted to scream at her friend for allowing herself to be taken by such a hopeless force, Erlyannil couldn't bring herself to do it. Her thoughts turned to Legolas and she bowed her head so that her forehead rested on the edge of the bed. "Why did you do it. Why do you give everything…" Why does love do this to people? And I thought it should cause happiness, joy, anything but grief. Love only brings grief. It drove my father to insane measures and my mother to think she had no way to live unless she could be with him. I don't understand. I don't understand at all.

Lyndariel's eyes suddenly widened and a fiery life shone through. Her younger sister gasped and came to the bedside. "I fell in love and there was nothing I could do about it. To deny it was to lie to myself and to accept it was to abandon my family and my people… but if I could do anything, _anything,_ to be with him I would do it, just so that you wouldn't suffer."

"We don't suffer!" her sister suddenly cried out, "you think that he is better than your life? He is worth it, to give everything up?"

"Yes." It was spoken with force; Lyndariel's voice was alive and sure though her face said otherwise. She looked to the faces of her mother and her sisters in turn and smiled with tears in her eyes. "I wish none of this had hurt you. I wish I was strong enough to live."

"Lyndariel," Erlyannil whispered urgently, "Galadriel has decided that you and Elladin may stay together. All you have to do is leave Lothlorién and you can be with him…"

Lyndariel's eyes shone with a momentary hope. But she closed her eyes again. "I wish I was strong enough to live," she repeated.

Erlyannil stood and let her friend's mother in her place. She backed up to the doorway and then watched as the tears poured down her face. The tired woman suppressed a sob and then said, "My daughter, I will be happy for you if you just tell me that you have no regrets." Lyndariel smiled at her mother and whispered, "I have none. I'm sorry, mother." weakly. 

The door behind Erlyannil suddenly swung open suddenly with a gust of wind. The forest's breath penetrated the entire house and as it came upon the girl in the bed she sighed, and her breath was added to its whispers.

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The girl emerged from the small home, her eyes cleared with the unusually strong gusts that blew through the forest. Erlyannil breathed. The scent of the woods was no longer overwhelming as it was during the day, for it had been dissipated with the breeze. And the warm sunlight was just disappearing below the line of the ground, rays peeking through branches that didn't reach the silver city.

Faintly, Erlyannil heard the weeping of the women of the house she had just left. And the city in chorus, the wind howling through trees and a man's voice above all others, crying out, lamenting the death of his beloved. The wind was breaking twigs and leaves off the trees that had not been stirred by such a gale in many years and the leaves became a swirling maelstrom. Erlyannil heard and saw all these things as though she was not a part of them; everything was muted and distant. Her hair whipped around her face and stung just as the twigs that grazed her skin. She walked to the grove.

From a staircase above, an elf's eyes rested upon the young girl walking in a dream-like state. Legolas saw her reach down to pick something off the ground. Her fingers clung to the small golden leaf in a battle with the wind until the breath of the earth won over and swept it away to join its companions in a furious dance. Legolas felt the forces in the air, surrounding him, but in his mind he could only hear the beating of his heart and what it was drawn towards. 

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The wind suddenly faded, as if it had been drawn up momentarily from its rest in the earth to sweep through in a chaotic whirl and then settle back to its resting place. Legolas heard a footstep behind him and barely turned away from the scene of the shimmering towers and staircases before he said in a lifeless voice, "Father."

Thranduil stepped down and stood beside his son. His young son, just past adolescence, creeping into the early years of adulthood. "Legolas, there is something in the air. Something that I feel and something I also perceive in your face."

His son turned to look at him and Thranduil suddenly saw clearly the thing his gaze had only barely touched before. He knew what it was already but could not help but draw in a sharp breath at the full force of it in his son's eyes.

"This city is above the ordinary valleys and hills of our world, Father. There is something more here, magic at work, the beauty of the Ancient Ones that still lingers here. Being here just--"

"No, my son, it is not this place that affects you, but something else. And you know of what I speak of--you know that I already know the truth. But there is something more I wish to know."

Legolas averted his eyes to stare at his feet. He felt diminished at his father's wise gaze, he felt as though his entire soul were laid open for his father to examine. "What more do you want to know?" he asked softly.

"What you have decided to do."

"There is nothing for me to decide. It has already been preordained before me. I cannot stay nor listen to my heart unless I wish to abandon my life to these forces which we cannot control. I've heard about it, in the story of the one union of our people, and now I have also seen it, felt it, in this place…"

"You want to give yourself up to it, though."

"No, I…" Legolas halted and knew that denying it was pointless. "Yes, Father, I want to. But I cannot."

"My son, you can. You believe the decision already made, but it has always rested in your hands. Just remember, you are my son and you have a duty to our people. They are your people also and will be loyal to you when I pass into the west."

"Then I refuse to listen to my heart. It only leads to grief."

"How do you know?" Thranduil asked quietly. "I cannot even begin to understand why. But there is great joy in giving up life for something so beautiful. There must be, or so many would not have made the decision to let life die in return for it. Even I can say these words yet not know their meaning. I have never been able to understand why one would forsake everything for love. Perhaps I wish you to find out in my stead, for you have the chance that I tossed away. Life is fleeting, and love is perpetual." 

Legolas looked at his father with wide, wondering eyes. But before he could say anything Thranduil turned and walked back up the stairs, leaving his son. The air was chilling while it darkened and the last light of day was superseded by a clear night. He looked back down and saw that Erlyannil was still standing in the grove, and she was looking at him now. But she lowered her gaze and looked down and to the side in resignation. The glow of the staircase he stood on faded and Legolas looked up imploringly at the scattered breaches through the foliage. Through a roof of gold and green the first light of a star peeked through a blanket of darkness and silence settled into place. 

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     A/N: Ooh, the power of symbolism. All over the place aren't they? And I thought I could get away from that stuff during the summer…lol. (brought it upon myself tho…)

Disclaimer: Being a work of fanfiction, the original is property of J.R.R. Tolkien (and Saul Zaentz). Any original characters and plot are the rightful property of me. J Extra comments, questions? Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com


	8. Just Before Dawn

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Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Eight: Just Before Dawn

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"She's dead." Erlyannil stood before the Lady in a small grove protected from the darkness of the outer forest by a ring of large birch trees. Galadriel shut her eyes and looked up at the night sky.

"Yes, I have felt it. I have felt the winds that coursed through this city. There was a storm around the woods and the wind reached through the forest to us. I did not think it would happen so soon, for it has been many seasons since we have felt the angry breath of terra. I could hear it depart with the breath of a dying young girl on its wings."

"What does it mean, Galadriel?" There were no tears in the girl's eyes now but a deeply troubled expression, and behind that, inexplicable pain.

"I do not know. Soon daylight will come and no more shall we be accursed with these strange omens." Galadriel looked to Erlyannil suddenly, as if to search out any reaction at the reminder off daylight's approach.

"Surely you don't blame Thranduil's people for this--"

"If they had not come, none of this would have transpired. But no, young one, it is not in my power to place blame on anyone for the woe of my people."

__

That's right, because it didn't just begin now. It began years ago when my father first fell in love with my mother.

"No, Erlyannil," Galadriel reprimanded, as though she could hear the girl's thoughts. Perhaps she could, for her gaze was piercing indeed and there was none other as perceptible as the Lady of Lorién. "You blame your parents for a curse placed on our people. And you believe that when you walk through the city, the people look upon you with scorn, for you are but a reminder of a hapless bonding. But you are wrong. Only some of us can see a path in the future, even then only vaguely, and no one can change it. What happens will happen but what you can do…"

Erlyannil's eyes were glued to the ground. But at this, she looked up, and finished for Galadriel, "…What we can do, what we may do, is change it. History repeats itself only if you let it do so. The winds tonight have told me, _atara_, that with me rests the choice."

A breeze rustled the treetops then and Galadriel smiled inwardly, though bitterly, and fought back tears as she looked upon the young girl she had raised for so many years. "I believe that in you rests some of my power," she said.

Erlyannil's lips formed a smile but briefly. "Perhaps, but what you mean to say is that it rests in all of us. Just that I have chosen to use it."

"Have you?"

"Yes. Daybreak is just hours away now. There is…something I must do."

"You mean, someone you must speak to." Galadriel smiled knowingly at the weary girl. "Erlyannil, _mellen_, the choice of what to do is yours alone, but…it is as a pool. What you do will always dissipate into ripples and waves. Some of which may disappear quickly but some…" She stopped and looked up again. _I have raised your daughter well, Arlynn._ "But you already know this, my daughter. You already know many things. Perhaps that is why he was so drawn to you. I have seen how he loves you, Erlyannil." 

Galadriel saw the girl blush suddenly and a warm smile played across her face. "The young prince of Mirkwood was but a haughty young Elf in childhood, and just as any other little boy, he scorned the young maidens and ventured out to play at archery. I have watched him grow, for every few years he would visit these woods and each time he would have grown a little bit more. And now, _mellen_, he has found you. I see the hopeless, desperate love in his eyes. He has fallen in love with you and he refuses to fall out of love."

Erlyannil shook her head resolutely. "But he leaves when light comes and our city becomes what it was before. It will be a lie to go back to how everything was."

"Yes, it will." The Lady's sharp blue eyes were trained on the girl. Erlyannil's gaze matched Galadriel's, but her eyes were grieved.

"Thank you, _atara_, for everything you have taught me," she whispered and then turned to leave the grove. Galadriel watched her leaving and then sighed heavily. The weariness on her face was heavier than before but in her eyes one could see that she had found a long sought after relief.

__

Now I know. Now I understand my daughter. I understand Arlynn. Your daughter is just like you but she has the knowledge of the Ancients in her, and she understands the forces of our world just as I do. She is young but she knows love. I did not before, I could not understand then, but now I see why you would forsake so much, why he would slay for you. You died for him but you lived on in her, mellon, and now she knows the desperation of love. And the choice she must decide for herself. The same that you were faced with so many years ago is what that young maiden had to face, and now what Erlyannil must face. But she and the son of Thranduil will not let history reproduce in our time again.

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"Legolas," she whispered. Her voice sounded faraway to her, but she stepped further into the archway. The prince stood just paces away, his back turned to her, in a small darkened corridor. He turned around to meet her and she saw the surprise in his face. "You thought I would not come?"

He shook his head hastily but remained silent. In the darkness she could perceive his eyes searching out her face yet she could scarcely see more than his silhouette against the light emanating faintly from the city.

"Daybreak approaches." She hated the way her voice sounded, so distant and without life, but she could not bring herself to speak with expression. Her voice remained blank. Erlyannil was nearly at a loss for words, for the prince would not speak. He just watched her in the darkness and she could still feel his eyes on her. "Legolas…" she expelled with a heavy sigh.

"Every sigh is like a little of your life's breath being swept away," he said, his voice low and quiet, "to hear such a sound of despair from you is near to breaking my heart."

Erlyannil brought her eyes up from the floor. "Why do you say so?"

"You are so youthful and…innocent. Beautiful. Beauty and wisdom like yours should not be wasted upon sighs of despair for something hopeless." Legolas stepped closer to her so that they were nearly against each other. He looked down at her and she could feel his light breath on her face.

"Innocence and beauty. You speak of things that I do not have, my prince." She could feel his flinch at the title 'my prince,' but nevertheless she continued. "I am just a young and unfortunate orphan living in a beautiful place surrounded by a beautiful people. I am just the daughter of a union that caused grief to this magical place and to yours…" She dropped her face but she could feel his hand on her chin, raising it up.

"Why the formalities? Why all the lies? Why, Erlyannil?" 

"I do not know what you speak of, my prince."

"I love you."

Erlyannil closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "And I you. But, Legolas, you leave with daylight."

"So you have said already. I know."

"It cannot be. It all happened so quickly, and now it must end quickly also. There is nothing more we can do. For the grudges between our people have more than worsened with your peoples' stay and…"

"I know all of this, Erlyannil. That is not what you came to tell me, or you would not have come at all. It would have been better if you had rested this night, and forget all about this."

"That's impossible," Erlyannil retorted stubbornly.

Legolas reached down and felt in the darkness for her hand. He caressed her fingers with his. "I know it is," he whispered, "…my father told me that…that it was my choice."

"And Galadriel said the same to me. But—Legolas, we ourselves are…pivotal in the course of our people. You are the _son_ of the king of Mirkwood and I am, well, I am many things. You understand, right?"

"Erlyannil." Legolas' voice was sharp with finality. "That is not the reason why I choose to leave and forget about you, and why you choose to live your life here without memory of me. The reason is…" he entangled his fingers in her hair again and smiled into the darkness before continuing, "that the love between us cannot even be breached by hundreds of leagues or thousands, even if we never see each other again."

"It was not meant to be, was it." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement when she said it glumly.

"Yes it was, and that is why it happened. It is why I saw you amidst the trees that day and felt something strange in the air. And why everything happened here. It is meant for us to part."

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and took her hand away from Legolas' to wipe them away. "Did you mean what you said? That you will leave and…forget about me, and I, live without memory of you?" Her voice was shaking uncontrollably.

In answer, Legolas bent down and kissed her gently. He enveloped her in his arms and then bowed to kiss her forehead. "I will never forget you."

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The company from Mirkwood left with the break of dawn. Thranduil and his small entourage of friends and guard, his son with the group that had first arrived with the purpose of seeking truce departed on horseback through the trees. The people of Lorién came to bid the Elves farewell, though the parting was not sorrowful to many of them. Memories of pain were all but subdued with the foreigners' stay. But for two, there was nothing that could have been more hurtful than that morning.

Erlyannil and Legolas had spent the remainder of the night, catching light snatches of sleep in that small archway, encircled in one another's arms. When day had nearly broken, though, Legolas left her with a kiss lingering on her lips. Erlyannil's emotions felt as though they were caught up in a tight knot in her throat. She sat in that archway for a while longer, and then walked through the awakening city towards the forest as the sun began to peek through the forest of branches.

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Disclaimer: Being a work of fanfiction, the original is property of J.R.R. Tolkien (and Saul Zaentz). Any original characters and plot are the rightful property of me. J Extra comments, questions? Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com


	9. Golden Leaves

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Golden Leaves of Lorién

Chapter Nine: Golden Leaves

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She sat in the branches of a large oak tree, hidden partially from the path that ran near the base of the tree by the thick leaves, and blending into the foliage in her greenish-grey tunic and golden hued cloak. Dark eyes widened and a pointed ear turned toward the entrance of the woods where the path began. She listened carefully, her fine-tuned hearing discerning the patter of horses' hooves and the light, nearly silent step of approaching Elves. She perched on the branch, waiting patiently for many minutes until finally the group could be seen through the trees.

The girl's eyes narrowed as they neared, and she held her breath as they began to pass just feet below her. She watched each of them carefully as they passed. They all had wispy, golden hair, each was clad in shades of green and brown, and each was equipped with a bow, quiver, and knives. 

Her measuring stare suddenly faltered as she saw one of the Elves on foot halt as the rest continued onward. She tilted her head as she watched him, and against all reason a smile suddenly touched her lips. And although tears were running in streams down her cheeks, she just sat there, smiling.

She felt a shiver run through her body when those piercing eyes locked onto hers and held them there, unwavering, challengingly. But this time it did not astonish her that he had looked directly at her, knowing she would be there, while no others had even sensed or heard her presence in the trees.

And like before, the Elf smiled. But it was a bitter smile, one full of unspeakable sadness. Nevertheless, his eyes held hers.

"Legolas," Elladin was calling. He had stopped just before a turn in the road where it disappeared behind a grove of thick trees, and was waiting for his prince.

The Elf finally averted his gaze against his will, after a time. Tears brimmed his eyes but he bent low to whisper a few words to his horse, and it began to make its way along the road. 

She watched him disappear behind the trees. 

And then she dropped from her perch on the branch to the ground, where a leaf was settled against the road, perhaps laid there haplessly by the wind. She bent down to pick it up. Her fingers clutched to its golden smoothness as she straightened and stood. A breeze rose from the ground to whisper through the forest, and when it reached her she smiled into it and released the leaf to the wind, to join its companions in a golden myriad of dancing leaves, swept by the wind.


	10. Coming Soon...lol

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Author's Note!!

Thank you to everybody who reviewed!!! Because it was such a sad ending and Legolas is, sadly enough, always the bachelor of misfortune (heehee Aerlinnel), I decided I would have to write a sequel. The girl didn't die this time, and Legolas is still around for a couple thousand years, so they'd have to meet again sometime…

So, a sequel is coming! Very soon! Well, in a couple of weeks to a month. School's starting tomorrow for me, so I'm going to be quite the busybody for a time. When I do get free time, though, I will be writing as hard as I can. I've already gotten two chapters written, but ah-ah, sorry, you can't read them yet. Heehee. Sorry, I'm going to post them in weekly installments, as soon as I get finished writing more than just two chapters. 

Thanks for being patient as always. ^_~ 

__

-Ellwyn Phoenix

***Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. I've got an idea for another Lego fic. This one's gonna be humorous, or as humorous as my little imagination can make it. If ur interested please check my profile from time to time where I'll be posting updates on story statuses and stuff…

Questions? Like to get to know me? Email to: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com


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